w feet of him, regarding him intently. They smelled the blood on his
head, and a slaver ran from their jaws. Again he cursed them, but this
time they did not move. They seemed to realise he could not harm them.
With their evilly-slanted eyes they watched his struggles. Strange,
wise, uncanny brutes, they were biding their time, waiting to rush in on
him, to rend him.

Again he tried to get free. Now he fancied he could move his arm a
little. He must hurry, for every instant the malamutes were growing
bolder. Another strain and a wrench. Ha! he was able to squeeze his
right arm from under the rawhide.

He felt the foul breath of the dogs on his face, and quickly he struck
at them. They jumped back, then, as if at a signal, they sprang in
again. There was no time to lose. They were attacking him in earnest.
Quickly he wrenched out his other arm. He was just in time, for the dogs
were upon him.

He struggled to his knees and shielded his head with his arms. Wildly he
swung at the nearest dog. Full on the face he struck it, and it shot
back as if hit by a bullet. But the others were on him. They had him
down, snarling and ripping, a mad ferment of fury. Two of them were
making for his face. As he lay on his back he gripped each by the
throat. His hands were torn and bleeding, but he had them fast. In his
grip of steel they struggled to free themselves in vain. They backed,
they writhed, they twisted in a bow. With his huge hands he was choking
them, choking them to death, using them as a shield against the other
three. Then slowly he worked himself into a sitting position. He hurled
one of the dogs to the tent door. He swung bludgeon blows at the others.
They fled yelping and howling. He still held the Mackenzie River bitch.
Getting his knee on her body, he bent her almost into a circle, bent
her till her back broke with a snap.

Then he rose and freed himself from the remaining thongs. He was torn
and cut and bleeding, but he had triumphed.

"Oh, the devil!" he growled, grinding his teeth. "He would have me
chewed to rags by malamutes."

He stared around.

"He's taken everything, the scum! left me to starve. Ha! one thing he's
forgotten--the matches. At least I can keep warm."

He picked up the canister of matches and relit the stove.

"I'll kill him for this," he muttered. "Night and day I'll follow him.
I'll camp on his trail till I find him. Then--I'll torture him; I'll
strip him and leave him naked in the sn